


Careful Creature Made Friends With Time

by waitingforjudas



Series: Judas' Kinktober 2019 [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel Has Tentacles (Supernatural), Castiel and Dean Winchester Have a Profound Bond, Dean Winchester Actually Deals With Feelings, Dubious Consent, Kinktober, Kinktober 2019, Knifeplay, M/M, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Summoning gone wrong, Tentacles, castiel has tentacles only some of the time, distention, like a startling amount of plot, this was supposed to just be tentacle porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2019-10-03
Packaged: 2020-11-15 01:22:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20857901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waitingforjudas/pseuds/waitingforjudas
Summary: Dean just wants to finish up this stupid mermaid summoning already so he can head to a bar and get laid for the first time in weeks. But thanks to a mispronunciation in the spell, he summons a different aquatic creature—one who’s a lot clingier than expected.Dean’s ready to do just about anything to get Castiel off his back and out of his shower, but Castiel makes an unexpected request.Written for Kinktober 2019 prompts: Tentacles, Distention, and Knife Play.





	Careful Creature Made Friends With Time

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! So I have never written tentacles before, or knifeplay before, or extreme distention before. I hope I’ve done it some justice, but there are many other days this month where I’m writing something I understand better, so if you don’t enjoy this, there are/will be other choices available. 
> 
> Castiel is similar to a merman here, with his top half being human and his lower half being octopus. He’s a magical creature like a mermaid or werewolf would be, and most of my understanding and basis of his genitalia is from other tentacle erotica and one longer tentacle novella I’ve read to try and get an understanding of tentacles. 
> 
> I’m not going to research octopus genitalia, because I have limits, and if I start researching animal genitalia, I’ve passed them. So take all descriptions with a heavy grain of salt, and don’t base your IRL tentacle sex on this work. 
> 
> This is also dubious consent. My understanding is that tentacle sex is predominantly rape-based, but Dean does enjoy the sex in this work while he does not explicitly consent, and, for the first few minutes, explicitly requests for Castiel to stop. 
> 
> _Written for Kinktober 2019. Prompt list can be found at https://twitter.com/NihilistShiro/status/1162794889970511872._

If, when Dean woke up this morning, he legitimately thought that the summoning would go this wrong, he would’ve stayed in bed. 

It had all started when Sam tried to correct his pronunciation and Dean snapped that “you sound like Hermione fucking Granger, Sam. _It’s Wingardium Levi-O-sa, not Levio-SA!_”

Sam had blinked at him. “You know Harry Potter?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

They’d finished out the summoning, Dean making the pronunciation error twice, and when nothing had happened for twenty minutes, Dean had said, “Fuck this, I’m taking a shower.”

“Dean, we’ll just have to put it all back on again in a few hours—”

“And it’ll be a few less hours with me covered in fish and octopus gunk. Seriously, why the _fuck_ do we need a mermaid at all?”

Sam sighed and Dean rolled his eyes, holding up a hand. 

“Forget I asked. You’re going to get all gussied up next time, though.” And with that, Dean turned on his heel and strode out fast enough that Sam wouldn’t yell after him—or if he did, he’d at least get something of a head start. It wasn’t like he could take off running when he was covered head-to-toe in fish guts that were really starting to smell _not good_. 

He just wanted to go to a bar and get laid tonight. But that wasn’t going to happen until he had at least four showers—and probably a bath, too, to make sure that there wasn’t anything too horribly nasty sticking to some part of his skin he hadn’t managed to scrub off in the shower. 

Why couldn’t Sam have taken one for the team and worn octopus skin? 

Dean turned on the shower, not bothering to look in the tub and closely examine where the water was hitting and if it’d go spraying on the floor. There was a curtain for a damn reason. 

Instead, he waited for it to get warm and stared at himself in the mirror. 

He wasn’t that egotistical, but he knew he was a decently good-looking man. He’d always liked his chin, actually, but his chin was dark purple-red and there was a shredded piece of what looked like a tentacle sucker stuck to it. 

Dean worked a finger under it and pried it off. 

God, it wasn’t enough that he’d been going through a dry spell, was it? Now _nobody_ was going to want him. 

Maybe he just needed to expand his horizons, incorporate some new—

_Stop it. What would Dad think?_

Dean turned on the sink faucet and cupped his hands together to dunk his face into, but the water turned murky in moments. 

He shut it back off with a growl and stripped out of his clothes—a stained T-shirt that had once been a white Fruit of the Loom shirt and was now tie-dye and, with the placement of the fish guts on the brand name, uit o e Lo, and loose boxer shorts that had met a similar fate. 

He didn’t even dare look at any reflective surfaces that would let him see just how bad he looked at the moment, closing his eyes tight even as he stepped in the shower. He’d just spray off the worst of this gunk and then he could—

Something slick slipped up against his calf. 

Dean froze, heart thundering. He’d checked the shower before he got in, hadn’t he? Even _he_ wasn’t that self-absorbed and vain to risk his life just to avoid getting a full-body look at himself, right?

“Dean,” a deep, raspy voice said, and Dean’s eyes went wide. 

This was a problem. 

“Don’t be scared,” the voice said. 

Dean turned around, slowly, and stared at the man roughly eye-level with him, completely normal—shirtless, but this was a shower, and if he’d been wearing clothes, that would’ve been stranger. 

Aside from the tentacles. 

The _tentacles_?

“Who the hell are you?” 

The man—tentacle monster—tentacle man? squinted. “I’m Castiel. And you’re Dean Winchester. You summoned me—did you forget?”

Dean sighed, suddenly tired. “I’m sorry, man, I didn’t mean to. And this is kind of a private moment, so if you could just leave—”

“I can’t,” Castiel said simply. 

Dean frowned, folding his arms and widening his stance—and remembered that he was naked and flushed a little. “And why the fuck not?”

“You summoned me. I have to fulfill the terms of the summoning before I can leave.”

“Okay, well, I’ll just get cleaned up and then we can go talk to Sam and you can help us out and—”

“I was summoned for you,” Castiel said. 

“_By_ me,” Dean said. 

“_For_ you. You were there, Dean, don’t you remember?” 

Dean nodded slowly. “Yeah, I was there, but I don’t— Okay, what are your terms, exactly? Just to do something for me?”

Castiel smiled slightly, looking pleased. “Yes, exactly. You summoned me to fix your dry spell.”

Dean frowned, blinking slowly. That sounded like it could have gotten confused. “My dry spell, as in the drought in Lebanon?”

“No, your personal drought. You said it was your personal drought, not your community’s drought, so I thought it was best if I responded.” 

Dean’s stomach sank. “And you said that you were going to fix the drought how, exactly?”

“By having sex with you,” Castiel said, matter-of-fact, just as calm as anything. 

“I’m not gay,” Dean said. “So I think we’re just going to have to find a different way to get you back.”

Castiel frowned, and Dean’s heart pounded as the look of anger turned into pure, unadulterated rage. “You are attracted to men.”

“I’m really not, buddy,” Dean said weakly. 

“Yes,” Castiel said, “you _are_.”

“I promise I’m not, Cas.”

Cas pulled a knife out of—somewhere and Dean dropped his arms to his side, taking a step back. 

“Hey, let’s not get too upset or anything,” Dean tried, raising his hands in surrender. 

“I’m not upset, Dean. But you are attracted to me. I can feel it. This is your last chance to come willingly.”

Dean’s eyebrows shot up. “Or— What, are you gonna rape me?”

“Last chance.”

“_No_. Let’s just go talk to Sam and he’ll figure this _out_!” Dean was suddenly pinned to Cas, two tentacles wrapped tightly around his body, keeping him facing forward and away from Cas, but snug against Cas’ front. 

The knife was at his throat, and one of Castiel’s arms was pinning his head back by his forehead, keeping his neck exposed. 

Dean whimpered. He should’ve looked in the fucking shower—he would’ve at least gotten something of a warning that this might happen, at least. 

“I think it would serve you well not to fight so hard, Dean,” Castiel said, and then there was a third tentacle slipping up his legs, so slow that it had to be purposeful. 

Dean wasn’t shaking. He wasn’t. 

But then the tip of Cas’ tentacle touched his asshole and Dean shouted, trying to struggle away before the knife cut into his neck just a little too much and he stilled instinctively, the result of many years of his dad’s training on when to stop moving and when to start. Dean had the scars to prove it. 

“I would advise you not to struggle,” Cas said and Dean didn’t even nod, just pulled back, pressing against Castiel again and swallowing the moment he had enough clearance to do so. 

Cas chuckled lowly, darkly, and Dean shivered, closing his eyes tight. 

Something slick and thick and slippery oozed out of the tentacle’s tip and then it was pressing in, slow but unforgiving, growing thicker and thicker as it went, until Dean finally opened his eyes as it grew so thick and wide that it was constant _hard_ pressure on his prostate. 

Dean was growing hard. 

“Look at that,” Castiel said, and without thinking, Dean opened his eyes to realize that his legs were wrapped in tentacles, his cock was red and hard, wet where the shower spray was hitting it, and—and—

And his belly was swollen, distended out and moving, twitching as Cas moved his tentacle inside of Dean’s body. 

Dean shook, half from pleasure, half from terror. 

“It’s about to get better,” Cas said, and he must have believed that, truly, because he was moving another tentacle up to Dean’s hole. 

“I— God, don’t, I can’t— _Please_—”

“It’s a small one, Dean. Don’t you worry.”

It was smaller. Thinner, at least—it was long and much more rigid. Instead of just being thick and muscular, it felt hard. 

Like—

Like—

Oh, God, Cas was fucking him. 

And then Cas started _thrusting_ and Dean groaned, limbs going loose and lax like he _hated_, but it always happened during sex and it—

“Please, Cas,” Dean whispered. 

“What?” Cas said, voice throaty and deeper than it had been a minute ago. 

“Please,” he repeated. 

“Tell me what you want.”

“I—I—I want you to—to—”

“To stop?”

“To _fuck me_,” Dean gasped, choking the words out and then his moans were molasses-slow and thick and heavy and _oh god_. 

“You like it? You like me fucking you open?”

Dean nodded, uncaring of the knife cutting into his skin, shallow, thin cuts, and Castiel seemed even more pleased by that, pressing deeper still into him. 

“Harder,” Dean whispered, flushing redder still and squeezing his eyes tight. He wanted it harder, he wanted to just be _laid into_ and fucked so hard that he wouldn’t have even the slightest _hope_ of walking tomorrow, but—

“Of course,” Castiel said, startling him, and then Cas was _pounding_ into him, hard and fast and Dean was so _full_, he was finally _full_, and something in him settled even as his muscles tensed in anticipation of his climax and then a third tentacle probed at his rim and Dean came, shooting into the shower’s spray, thick white ropes disappearing down the drain as he watched, in awe, and then the third tentacle slid inside and Dean blacked out, body overloaded with pleasure. 

###

When Dean blinked awake, he was in his bed, wearing a thick plug he didn’t remember putting in, and someone was stroking his hair, slow and gentle, pressing kisses to his forehead every so often. 

“Hi,” Cas said. “Feeling better?”

Dean nodded. “Thought you were s’posed to go ‘way after.”

Cas hesitated. “I… I can leave. I’m sorry if I’ve made you uncomfor—”

“Stay,” Dean said, grabbing at him with a clumsy hand. “I thought you had tentacles.”

Cas laughed softly, resuming stroking his hair in such a _nice_ way. “I do, just not all the time. They can get in the way of things.”

“Things like this?”

Cas nodded, pulling Dean a little tighter to him, and that thing that had settled down in the shower finally breathed a deep sigh of relief. 

“Things like this.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed, please consider leaving kudos or a comment. 
> 
> _This work was inspired by @NihilistShiro's Kinktober prompt list, available here: https://twitter.com/NihilistShiro/status/1162794889970511872 _


End file.
